


A Very Granger Christmas

by gildedmagnolia



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Advent fluff, Christmas Fluff, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Post-War, holiday fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:46:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28044888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gildedmagnolia/pseuds/gildedmagnolia
Summary: The first Christmas after the war, Hermione refuses to let Harry spend the holidays alone in Grimmauld Place and instead talks him into joining her family. Harry quickly learns that the Grangers don't do anything by halves--especially Christmas traditions.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter
Comments: 11
Kudos: 91
Collections: Harmony Advent Collection 2020





	A Very Granger Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much to Harmony and Co. for creating and coordinating the Harmony Advent Collection 2020! There are so many wonderful stories and works of art in the collection, and you really should go check it out. And another billion thanks metaphasia for betaing this story -- I seriously couldn't have done it without them!! I hope you enjoy, and HAPPY HOLIDAYS!

* * *

_November 20th, 1998_

“Harry, you can’t be serious! You’re not spending Christmas in that house all by yourself.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “You’re making too big a deal out of this. I’ll be fine. And besides, I’ll have Kreacher.”

Hermione put her hand on her hip and raised an eyebrow at him. “Kreacher is better than he used to be, but I wouldn’t really call him pleasant company. Spending Christmas with a crotchety house elf in a creepy old house does not sound very festive.”

“Well it’s not like I have a lot of options here,” he retorted. “Andromeda, Teddy, Tonks, and Remus are still in France — I don’t think they fancied spending their first Christmas without Ted in their own house. And I wouldn’t get anywhere near the Burrow right now. Ron says his mum spends half her time crying, but the other half is worse because she tries to make up for the crying by cooking and decorating too much. He reckons he’s gained half a stone already.” He scrubbed a hand down his face. “And I can’t exactly intrude on your family—”

“Why not?” she cut in. “And it wouldn’t be intruding. We’ve been together for almost a year now. In fact, they’re probably expecting it.”

He looked at her incredulously. “It’s your parents’ first Christmas back home. You spent over a year thinking you’d lost them, and they didn’t even know they’d lost you. I’m sure you’re all looking forward to making up for the Christmas you missed. Besides, I’m afraid having a new person there, causing extra work for all of you, might throw you off as you try to get back into the rhythm of the holidays. I just really don’t want to impose.”

“As if you could disrupt our Yuletide rhythm,” Hermione said with a snort. “Our schedule of Christmas traditions is unbreakable, even if we did have to miss a year. Believe me when I say you really wouldn’t be imposing.”

“Are you sure?” Harry asked. “Because I don’t want to mess anything up for your family. What if your mum’s dessert recipes are perfect for three people but too small for four? What if they’re planning on using the spare room as a big gift wrapping station? What if—?”

“I’m absolutely positive,” Hermione insisted. “Frankly, I think Mum and Dad would be disappointed if you didn’t come.”

Harry’s eyes grew wide. “Really?” 

“Of course. It’s always been just the three of us for the holidays. We have some great traditions, like Christmas movie marathons, caroling with the neighbors, and the office holiday party, but this time of year can still feel a little lonely. They’ll love having someone else around to play board games and eat too much gingerbread with. They’ll probably try to get you to tease me about my terrible caroling, too.”

Harry dramatically threw a hand over his heart. “I would _never_!”

Hermione gave his shoulder a gentle shove and laughed. “It’s alright if you do. That’s practically a tradition in and of itself.”

“If you say so.” He kissed her forehead gently and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “A Granger Christmas sounds like a lot of fun.”

“So it’s settled then?” Hermione asked, burrowing deeper into his side. “You’ll come to Mum and Dad’s house on the eighteenth?”

“The eighteenth? I thought this was just for Christmas Day.”

Hermione grinned. “Oh no. It takes time to get in all those traditions. If you want the full Granger Christmas experience, you’ll need to be there for a full week.”

Harry shrugged. “In for a penny, in for a pound, I guess.”

* * *

_December 18th_

When he arrived the next day, Harry barely had time to ring the bell before the Grangers’ front door flew open. The smell of gingerbread hit him with palpable force.

“Good, you’re just in time,” Hermione said, pulling him inside and dropping his suitcase by the door. “Mom just pulled the roofs out of the oven. They should be cool enough to work with in a few minutes.”

He followed her into the Grangers’ kitchen and felt his jaw drop. The normally spotless room was in chaos. The sheer volume of sweets—all sequestered in their own bowls, of course—would give Honeydukes a run for its money. Piles of gingerbread towered on their trays, and a light dusting of icing sugar coated one of the countertops. Harry found the whole scene more than a little daunting. 

“Is everything alright?” he asked. 

Monica Granger turned at the sound of his voice. “Harry! We’re so glad you could join us.” She hugged him carefully, trying not to transfer anything from her apron to his clean clothes. “Everything is fine. We’re getting ready to make the gingerbread houses. Would you be a dear and help Hermione take all the bowls to the kitchen table?”

He nodded, operating on autopilot as he helped Hermione move everything to the four stations Wendell was fastidiously setting up. 

“Good to see you, son,” he said, shaking Harry’s hand.

“You too, sir.”

“We’re so happy you’re joining us for the holidays,” Monica said as she set down the trays of gingerbread. “We’re so excited to share our little traditions with someone we care about.” 

Hermione gently nudged his shoulder. “Told you so.”

“Well what are we waiting for?” Wendell clapped his hands brightly. “Let’s get started!” 

Once the supplies had all been distributed, the three Grangers dove into their work. Harry watched as they carefully constructed their gingerbread houses, each using a slightly different method. The look of intense concentration on all three of their faces was almost cartoonish, and if he hadn’t been so uncomfortable, Harry might have laughed. Whatever the Grangers did, they did to the best of their abilities.

“We’ve all got our own opinions on how to best construct a gingerbread house,” Hermione said as she added a support to one of her walls. She glanced over at Harry’s untouched cookie pieces and frowned. “Are you still weighing your options over there?”

“Uh, kind of.”

“I use a piece of cookie for the base,” Wendell added helpfully. “Monica and Hermione live a little more dangerously and just add some internal supports. What do you usually do?”

“I’ve never made a gingerbread house before.”

Hermione shot him a quizzical look.

“I’ve seen it done before,” he explained. “Aunt Petunia helped Dudley make one for the contest at school every year. But I, uh, I’ve never done it myself.”

Hermione’s face was calm, but he could see her hands were shaking. As they’d gotten closer as a couple and he’d revealed more about his upbringing, Hermione had come to hate the Dursleys far more than he did, and she rarely bothered to hide it.

“Then we don’t have any bad habits to break,” Monica said, forcing a bit of levity. “Imagine if Hermione was dating someone who didn’t believe in structural supports.”

“Hermione has better taste and sense than that,” Wendell muttered under his breath.

Harry felt a hand grasp his under the table. 

“Let’s build them together,” Hermione said as she gave his hand a gentle squeeze. He nodded in reply, swallowing down the lump in his throat. 

Harry followed Hermione’s construction step by step, and to no one’s surprise, the gingerbread house felt perfectly sturdy. Everyone took a quick break to eat dinner before jumping back into the decorating portion of the event. By that point, Harry had gotten the basic idea of it all: use some icing to attach candy decorations however you please. With a bit of encouragement from Hermione, he allowed himself to let loose and go a little crazy with the candy bits. 

“That’s a quite, er, whimsical house you’ve built,” Monica commented. 

Harry grinned as he put the finishing touches on his third candy cane turret. “I decided to take a little inspiration from the Burrow.”

Hermione giggled. “It looks more like something out of Luna’s imagination. Beautiful and ridiculous.”

“And physics defying,” Wendell added. “Are you sure there’s no magic involved here?”

“Of course not,” he replied, now carefully stringing his licorice and M&M string lights between the towers. “Just a little bit of luck and a whole lot of imagination.”

Hermione bumped his knee with hers. “I think you’ve got those backward,” she teased. 

“No one asked you, Professor McGonagall,” he said with a sniff. He and Hermione both burst into laughter at the memory from their first year of school.

When his hands were out of their precarious position, she leaned her head over on his shoulder. “All jokes aside, your gingerbread house really is spectacular.”

“Hermione’s right,” Monica said. “Maybe you should design the one for the office next year.”

Harry’s heart did a little somersault at the thought of being able to do this all again next year. “That would be amazing.”

“Don’t get too excited,” Hermione said. “It’s for a dentist’s office. All your materials will have to be sugar free.”

The evening descended into even more laughter and good-natured ribbing, and Harry found himself really hoping that the Grangers meant what they’d said. He wanted to do this every Christmas from now on.

* * *

At the end of the night, Hermione led him up to the spare room, just across the hall from her own. “You know where the bathroom is. There are plenty of towels in the linen closet and some extra toiletries in the basket, just in case you forgot something.” 

“Good. I’ll probably need the extra soap to get all this sugar off me,” Harry replied. “I don’t know how I managed to get a sticky spot on my neck.” 

Hermione winked and said, “If I remember correctly, you can blame that one on me.”

Harry snaked an arm around her waist and smirked at her. “Oh right. You’re the little troublemaker who tried to start something in front of her parents.” 

“I’ve been friends with you, Ron, and Ginny for ages.” She shrugged. “It was bound to rub off sometime.”

All Harry could do was shake his head and give her a gentle kiss on the lips. “Goodnight, Hermione.”

“It was a good night, wasn’t it?” She wrapped her arms around him and held him close. “Sleep well, Harry, and happy Christmas.”

“Thank you,” he whispered into her hair. “For everything.”

She leaned back, a look of confusion on her face.

“I never thought I’d get to experience something like that,” he said quietly. “I’ve been with the Dursleys for the holidays, which was always terrible. I’ve stayed at Hogwarts, and those experiences have ranged from really fun to terribly stressful. I even got to spend a Christmas with Sirius, which is a memory I’ll always treasure. But tonight felt like...like I’d stumbled onto the front of a Christmas card. It was traditional and warm and welcoming and delightfully normal. It was a pretty perfect evening in my book.”

Much to his surprise, Hermione pulled him into a fierce hug. “You deserved it,” she murmured. “You deserved a wonderful, relatively quiet evening with people who care about you, and you deserve a thousand more. And you’re going to get them all, if I’ve got any say in the matter.”

Despite the crush of her embrace, Harry relaxed in her arms. He could feel the truth in her words, and it warmed him to his very soul. “Is that so?”

“Absolutely—we’ll pick up with day number two tomorrow.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him lightly on the corner of his mouth. “I love you, Harry.”

With a wide grin on his face, Harry whispered, “I love you, too.”

* * *


End file.
